Writes The Hastings Crazy Quilter: “I love the stories about old Beetles.

“My sister and I had a blue Beetle when we were attending the University of Minnesota, back in the 1970s. We called it our Lemon Blue Beetle because that’s what it was; it ran fine in the summer, but would start only about 50 percent of the time in the winter. It wasn’t much, but it was all we could afford.

“When it didn’t start, it was my job to push so Linda could pop the clutch, as she knew how to drive a stick. In the winter, we would make a point to park it near a good place to push (preferably a small hill!).

“I remember one particular January evening, when Linda and I had picked up a friend to attend a cheapie movie at the St. Paul Student Center. When we came out, it had snowed about 6 inches, and, of course, the Beetle wouldn’t start. So Linda sat in the car, and our friend and I each opened a door and started pushing. We were not making much headway toward the hill, when all of a sudden the car started moving faster. After a try or two, Linda popped the clutch and it started. I turned to my friend and said something about what determined women can do if they put their minds to it.

“That’s when we heard the chuckles. Yep, three guys had come out of the movie behind us, seen our predicament and were pushing the back of the Beetle. With red faces, we thanked them and jumped into the car while it was still going.

“I still have fond memories of that Beetle and was very interested when they were redesigned and reissued decades later.”

Where we live

Swedish Girl: “The return of these frigid-cold temperatures reminded me of a winter morning during my years at Bethel College in St. Paul.

“I lived on campus in a townhouse with five other girls. Since it was ‘way back’ in the early ’90s, we had no iPods, smartphones or personal computers; nor did we own a TV. In order to find out the current temperature in those pre-tech days, we relied on a huge 1970s thermometer, donated by my grandpa, that we hung on the rail of the staircase, just outside our townhouse door. This thermometer was about 2 feet in diameter, with huge black numbers and a giant red arrow pointing to the current temperature. You really couldn’t miss seeing what the temperature was — which was a good thing when you’re half-awake and staring at it every morning. For this was our daily routine in our townhouse: in order to know what to wear each day, we simply opened the front door of our townhouse, looked at the giant thermometer and dressed accordingly.

“One of our roommates was from New Jersey, and since she was usually the first one up, she always checked the giant thermometer and told us the current temperature. Apparently our roommate was used to much warmer winters in New Jersey, because on one of the first really cold winter mornings that year, we heard her open the front door to check the temperature and suddenly start screaming! The rest of us ran out of bed to see what she was screaming at, and she just kept pointing at the thermometer. ‘It’s broken!’ she said. ‘What do you mean it’s broken?’ one of us replied. She just stood there and said: ‘The arrow … it’s below zero … it’s broken!’ [Bulletin Board says: Must’ve been from down the shore, in way-southern New Jersey.]

“And of course, the rest of us Minnesotans just broke into laughter. When we could speak again, we explained to her that the thermometer wasn’t broken at all, but just pointing to the actual temperature of 10 degrees below zero.

“Our New Jersey girl couldn’t believe it could get that cold in Minnesota and promptly went back to bed, mad at this frozen state she temporarily lived in. She did come out a few times, dressed in more layers than we had ever seen.

“I think she thought that winter would never end.”

BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: We know the feeling.

Our theater of seasons

Or: Today’s helpful hint

No Name, Please: “We have had dangerous driving conditions: snow, sleet, freezing rain, compacted snow on the roads. But what is the situation in which a driver is most likely to have an accident?

“THE SUPERMARKET PARKING LOT! Drivers do not signal their turns. They stop suddenly when they see an open parking place. They pull out unexpectedly. Add compacted snow/ice to the usual.

“March 1 is Sock Monkey Day. March 2 is Old Stuff Day.March 3 is National Anthem Day. March 4th is March Forth — Do Something Day. On March 5 in 1624, the American colony of Virginia passed legislation that exempted the upper class from whipping. March 6 is World Book Day. March 7 is Doodle Day. March 8 Proofreading Day. [Bulletin Board says: Surely you meant ‘March 8 is Proofreading Day.] On March 9, Daylight Saving Time Begins (one hour ahead), and it is Check Your Batteries Day. March 10 is Land Line Telephone Day. March 11 is Worship of Tools Day. March 12 is Girl Scout Birthday Day. March 13 is K-9 Veterans Day and Earmuffs Day. March 14 is Pi Day. March 15 is Brutus Day. March 16 is St. Urho’s Day. The full moon is called ‘Worm Moon’ because this time of the year, there are signs of earthworms as the ground thaws. [Bulletin Board says: Don’t jinx it!] March 17 is St. Patrick’s Day. March 19 is Poultry Day. March 20 is World Storytelling Day and Spring Equinox. March 21 is Day of Forests and The Tree and Spring Fairy Fun Day. March 22 is As Young As You Feel Day. March 23 is Near Miss Day. Great Britain imposed direct rule over Northern Ireland on March 24, 1972. March 25 is Medal of Honor Day. March 26 is Make Up Your Own Holiday Day. March 27 is National ‘Joe’ Day. March 28 is Weed Appreciation Day.* March 29 is Day of Unplugging. March 30 is I Am In Control Day. March 31 is Bunsen Burner Day.

“* ‘If dandelions were hard to grow, they would be most welcome on any lawn,’ according to Andrew Mason. The Scouter agrees.”

Off the Job Training

Papier-mÃƒÂ¢che Division (responsorial)

Stinky Bananalips of Empries: “I’ve had this friend, S, since second grade. She’s one of those friends I’ve never been able to say no to.

“One day, they had all of the second-grade classes together to show us different projects we were going to work on — to make decorations for some party or something. We all went to the different stations — to get a lesson on what was going on, from each teacher. One project was a papier-mÃƒÂ¢che pinata, and I remember thinking that sticking my hands in that glop was the most disgusting idea ever. Then the teachers sat us down and explained that we would all be working on something, but because of the nature of the projects, we wouldn’t be able to work on everything; they would be picking who worked on what. What a relief: I can skip that glop at the pinata station.

“Because there were many layers and drying time involved, they started picking teams of two for the pinata first. Before I knew what was happening, S had grabbed my hand, raised it in the air with hers and was yelling excitedly: ‘Oh, me and A, please can we do that? Please!’ (Apparently teachers couldn’t say no to her, either; we got to go first). So there we were, on either side of this bucket of glop, me trying to put strips of newspaper into the glop and scraping off the excess without actually touching it (which is impossible, and I can still feel dried glop stuck under my fingernails 40 years later), and S just digging in that bucket, glop up to her elbows, giggling: ‘Isn’t this fun!’

“Years later, I did make a papier-mÃƒÂ¢che pinata for my daughter’s birthday. But I used white glue and water — so much less disgusting to touch than flour and water, to my mind, even though I know how both are made.

“Those are two of my life lessons from second grade: how to make a pinata, and you can’t say no to S.”

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